Shade didn't sleep.
Not because she was waiting.
She wasn't waiting.
She didn't care.
She didn't even think about it.
She definitely didn't keep checking her phone every seven minutes like a possessed person.
She definitely didn't reread her message and analyze every word like it was a crime scene.
She definitely didn't regret the line Either way — I respect what you do because it sounded like a farewell letter from a soldier.
Shade didn't do crushes.
Shade didn't do spirals.
Shade did control.
So when morning came, she showed up to rehearsal with the same expression she always wore: calm, sharpened, unbothered. The kind of face that made people assume she couldn't be touched.
Nova was already there, of course.
Nova always was.
Nova stood in front of the screen, pointing at sections of choreography with military precision, her voice clean and strict.
"No wasted movement," Nova said. "If we want them to believe the paranoia, we have to look like we mean it."
Echo was sitting sideways on a chair like rules didn't apply to her skeleton.
"Yes, boss," Echo said, in a tone that made it impossible to tell whether she was mocking or flirting.
Nova didn't react.
But Shade noticed the smallest tension in Nova's shoulders.
Echo noticed too.
Echo always noticed.
Shade took her place in the formation, acting like her heart wasn't an open wire.
Nova clapped once. "From the top."
The track started.
The first beat hit like a pulse.
The room filled with sound—heavy bass, sharp synths, and that metallic tension that made their debut track feel less like music and more like a warning. Shade moved with the others, crisp and controlled, her body operating on rehearsal muscle memory.
She could do this in her sleep.
She was doing it in her sleep.
Nova called instructions mid-run. "Sharper. Echo, don't drag the timing. Shade—eyes up."
Shade lifted her chin. Her gaze sharpened.
She did what she was told.
Because Shade was good at obeying scripts.
At exactly one minute and twelve seconds into the song, Shade's phone—tucked in her back pocket—buzzed.
Once.
Short.
Deadly.
Shade's entire body froze for half a heartbeat.
Only half.
No one noticed.
No one except Echo, whose eyes flicked immediately toward Shade like a predator sensing blood.
Shade kept moving.
Buzz again.
Shade's spine turned to ice.
Nova shouted, "Keep going!"
Shade kept going.
Her pulse hammered against her ribs like fists against a door.
Buzz again.
The third buzz felt personal.
It felt like the universe was laughing.
Shade's mind tried to stay focused.
Ignore it.
You're rehearsing.
You are a professional.
You do not fall apart over a notification.
But the buzzing wasn't just sound anymore. It was a presence. A looming shape. Like something had entered her world and refused to leave quietly.
Echo drifted closer during the chorus formation, sliding into place beside Shade with an expression so innocent it should have been illegal.
Echo whispered without moving her lips.
"Is that her?"
Shade didn't answer.
Echo smiled like she'd been answered anyway.
Nova called, "Stop."
The music cut off.
Silence slammed down hard.
Nova turned to them, eyes sharp. "Second chorus needs more bite. Echo—less playful. We're not here to charm them, we're here to haunt them."
Echo pouted dramatically. "But I'm so charming."
Nova ignored her.
Shade stood still, arms at her sides, her phone buzzing again like it was trying to crawl out of her pocket.
Nova's gaze landed on Shade. "And you—Shade. Your focus slipped."
Shade's stomach dropped.
"I'm focused," Shade said quickly.
Nova's eyes narrowed. "You weren't."
Shade's face stayed calm.
Her insides weren't.
Echo made a small, sympathetic sound—fake sympathy, of course. She leaned closer like she was inspecting a painting.
"Aw," Echo murmured. "Maybe Shade is just… distracted."
Nova's eyes flicked to Echo. "By what."
Echo's grin was lethal.
Shade spoke before Echo could.
"Nothing," Shade said flatly. "It won't happen again."
Nova stared at her for a moment, assessing. Measuring.
Then Nova nodded once, satisfied. "Good. Five-minute break. Hydrate."
Echo practically skipped away the second Nova turned her back.
Shade remained frozen in place until the room shifted into break-mode—bottles opening, small chatter, movement.
Then she finally slid her phone out.
Her hands were steady.
Her heart wasn't.
She turned the screen over.
1 New Message
From an unknown number.
Shade's breath caught.
Then she saw the first line.
Blaze:Hey Shade.
Shade stared.
A greeting.
Two words.
And yet her entire chest went loud.
Shade swallowed hard and opened it.
Blaze: Hey Shade.I've heard of Echora.Your message surprised me — in a good way.I'm interested.When do you want to talk?
Shade's fingers went numb.
Her eyes moved across the words like she didn't trust them to stay there.
Interested.
When do you want to talk.
Simple.
Professional.
And yet Shade felt like she'd been punched straight through the ribs.
A laugh bubbled up in her throat—sharp, disbelieving—but she strangled it before it could escape.
She reread the message again.
And again.
Echo appeared at her shoulder like a demon summoned by joy.
Echo's voice was syrup.
"Well?"
Shade locked her screen immediately.
Echo blinked. "HEY—"
Shade's eyes snapped up, murderous. "Don't."
Echo lifted her hands slowly in surrender, but her smile looked like she was enjoying this too much to be normal.
"You got a reply," Echo whispered, thrilled. "I can feel it."
Shade's voice went colder than necessary.
"Echo."
Echo's grin sharpened again.
"You're going to explode," Echo said softly. "You know that?"
Shade glared.
Echo leaned in closer, eyes bright. "This is the part where the story starts."
Shade's throat tightened.
She looked away—toward the mirror, toward the screen, toward anything that wasn't her own reflection cracking.
Because Echo was right.
It was starting.
And Shade—who didn't do crushes—had just been handed a date and a time.
Nova called from across the room, "Break is over."
Shade slid her phone away like it was a weapon.
Then she stepped back into formation, expression controlled, posture perfect—
while her mind echoed with Blaze's words like a bell:
I'm interested.
Shade lifted her chin.
The music started again.
And Shade tried—really tried—not to smile.